


Just Short The Avengers Edition

by ForgottenChesire



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, F/F, Kid Fic, M/M, Oh my god the cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:27:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just like my Hobbits Just Short. I shall post the starts of fanfictions and if you like them you can tell me so and I'll try to continue them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Loki's magik backfires and those caught in the crossfire get turned into... Kids!

Phil Coulson, recently allowed out of bed from a near death experience, has never been more grateful for being put on civilian watch. He takes in the scene before him and tries, valiantly, not to coo. In front of him are five pint sized Avengers plus two. Loki, who looks absolutely adorable stomping his feet in his too large shirt, is the cause of what will be surely be a massive headache. They had been in a meeting when the demi god had just popped in. When Thor, who had brought Jane and Darcy wanting them to be part of the Avengers, didn’t move to arrest or act negatively toward Loki Jane stormed out. Thus the reason he had to leave the room, Hawkeye following like a shadow, therefor escaping the magic Loki apparently let out.

“You just don’t understand!! You never listen to me!!”cries the at most seven year old Loki, his older brother scowling at him arms crossed. Phil walks into the room, calm on the outside but nervous on the inside. He kneels in front of Loki wiping away the tears, his paternal side coming out; he can’t stand to see children cry it breaks his heart.

“What isn’t he listening to?” he asks Loki softly. Loki looks up at him and fear flashes across those wide green eyes, he knows who Phil is, knows why Phil has a reason to hate, to harm him.

“I came here to tell him something important but he won’t listen to me!”

“Because you know nothing!”

“You’re not always right Big Brother!!!”

Phil sighs softly, apparently being made small brought out Loki’s immature side as well as Thor’s, pulling a pliant Loki into his arms after he sits down on the ground. He rocks slowly trying to calm the normally sadistic and sarcastic demi god down, rubbing his back.

“What is he wrong about Loki?”

“I didn’t come to cause trouble. I don’t always want to cause trouble… I came to say something important but… But now I can’t ‘member!!!” Loki cries clutching onto Phil’s shirt tightly. Phil suppresses a flinch, knowing that when Loki gets back to his old self, when he has better control over his emotions that he will be furious at being seen acting like this.

“It’s alright you’ll remember,” Phil soothes. A loud yelp causes Phil’s head to jerk to the left. Bruce is curled into a ball holding his head, Phil hates that he doesn’t know much about the doctor, Darcy standing protectively in front of the scared boy glaring at one Tony Stark. He has to blink to make sure he’s seeing right when he notices Steve, he doesn’t look like a miniature Captain America at all. Steve is glancing between Darcy and Tony trying to decide who he needs to protect.

“It’s not nice to just poke people!” Darcy declares fiercely her little hands clenched. Steve moves to stand beside Darcy deciding that she is the right. Tony sniffs; a gesture Phil has come to be familiar with.

“I didn’t poke him hard,” he says confidently though his eyes show his concern.

“You still hurt him you bully,” Darcy snarls, Steve nods his head.

“You scared him too.”

Tony frowns not enjoying being ganged up on, his eyes narrowed slightly. Darcy sniffs; a sarcastic imitation of Tony’s move. She turns to Bruce eyes soft as she tries to sooth him. Steve stands in front of them blocking Tony’s view.

“Darcy bring Bruce over please,” Phil calls out gently. Steve takes both Darcy and Bruce’s hand and they rush over to Phil, who has to resist gulping at the sight of three pairs of teary eyes; One blue, one hazel and one brown. Without needing prodding they all three clamber onto his lap.

“Tony was mean to Bruce,” Steve tells him softly, not in a tattling way but still so very young sounding. Darcy nods her head.

“He poked him really hard in the side and scared him.”

Phil hugs the four children to him murmuring softly to them. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Natasha standing next to Tony talking softly to the billionaire. Tony huffs and they both walk over to him.

“…… I’m sorry for poking too hard Bruce,” Tony grumbles. From behind him he hears Clint snort at the ‘apology’. Bruce looks over at Tony and smiles gently.

“Okay.”

“Tony isn’t the only one who needs to apologize,” Natasha says looking at Thor who tilts his head.

“You made Loki cry,” Darcy says from her position on Phil’s lap. Thor looks down and fidgets.

“I’m sorry Brother.”

Before Loki can respond, be it good or bad, a loud voice speaks up.

“What the motherfucking hell happened in here? Why the fuck are there little brats in the meeting room?”

Faster than Phil has ever seen her move Pepper who, after a short to the point call to Clint to ensure the texts she had received from him were real, smacks Fury upside his head.

“Don’t cuss in front the children,” she tells him sharply. Her cell phone held loosely in the hand she didn’t smack Fury with, the screen still on the previous texting session.

Ms. P we’ve got a prob Dx- Clint

What did Tony do this time?- Pepper

…. He got turned into a kid- Clint

-_- Clint… What. The. Hell? No wait, I’m going to call you.- Pepper

“Woman I can fucking cuss if I motherfucking want too… Motherfucker…Quit hitting me!”

Every time Fury cussed both Jane and Pepper hit him. Maria Hill stands back, an exasperated look on her face. If a woman is brave enough to hit you once she’ll do it again. Natasha tilts her head.

“Motherfucker.”

Phil gapes at her.

“Natasha Alianova Romanoff, that is not a word I want to hear come from your mouth young lady,” he scolds her as two very loud smacks cut the air. Natasha looks down and sniffles, Phil tries to stay strong knowing that Natasha is good at producing crocodile tears when the assignment needs but the looks Thor and Tony are giving him…

“It’s alright Natasha just don’t do it again okay?”

Natasha climbs onto his lap, which is getting pretty crowded, nodding her head. Fury is glowering at Pepper, Jane and Phil.

“So are you going to tell me how the fuck this happened,” he demands weathering the dual hits. They would get tired of hitting him soon or latter.

“Loki appeared during the meeting, when he got agitated he tried to use his magic… But since we put up the shield to stop magic from working it didn’t do what he was planning on and this happened, sir,” Hill finally speaks up. Fury raises his eyebrow at her.

“I watched from the command deck sir,” she says in a dry voice that clearly says it’s my job to know.


	2. Sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three different vies on lovers watching the other half or halves sleeping then joining said other half.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the start of an actual story then it morphed into this.

They lay together, bodies entwined like strings. Sleeping they look like angels, hair spread out like halo’s. Face’s slack empty of pain, fear and stress that normally plagues them. Their chests rising and falling in perfect tandem. He stands there watching them enjoying the rare scene. He feels like an intruder, so out of place. But then they start to move, their eyes flutter open pinning him like a butterfly to the wall. Smiles sneak on to their faces and they hold out their arms to him, inviting, begging him to join them. Who is he to deny them? So he joins them, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle. With soft sighs they fall asleep, heads resting on his shoulders. His arms wrap around them, guarding them, holding them before he too sleeps.

She lays there dark hair spread out like a pool around her head. Sleeping, blessedly unaware of the world around her, no worry is showing on her face. She lays spread over the entire bed before she grunts softly twisting around to hug a pillow. Bringing the pillow closer to her face with soft sniffs she inhales the scent lingering there, a smile crossing her face. She sits on the edge of the bed watching her. She feels blessed to have survived another mission and make it home to see this. Eyes flutter open and sleep slurred words are spoken, the blanket help up. A clear invitation to join, coupled with those sleep glazed eyes silently asking. Who is she to deny a blessing? She slips under the blanket holding her lover gently, so very conscious of her strength. With a soft and happy sniff her lover falls asleep holding her like she had the pillow. She grins widely nuzzling the dark hair before she falls asleep.

He lays there so relaxed compared to when he’s awake. Soft eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones but it doesn’t make him look tired, it makes him look human. His hand is beneath his pillow, clutching a gun, always on guard even sleeping. He looks like an angel in human skin. He sits up in the rafters watching as the angel’s chest rises and falls, glad that he is still alive. Eyes snap open, panic clear in them as he sits up gun in his hand. It pains him to see his lover so, so he slips down from the rafters and to his side. Loosely he wraps his arms around him and help ground him to the present. His lover curls into him, his head lying on his shoulder, the gun forgotten on the bed. He rocks his angel to sleep running his fingers through short hair. Soon panicked breathes calm down and are replaced by deep calm breaths. His arms an anchor for his angel he leans back and falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do ya like it?


	3. In Which Sigyn Is Going To Fix Shit Even If It Doesn't Seem Like It At First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a visitor waiting at the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of a possibly long story that will contain Thorki, though that will be at toward the end... Or at least the heavy Thorki will be at the End. I have only seen the Avengers so my characterization of them will be based on that and more heavily on the myths (which is a can of worms you don't want to get me started on with this fandom xD) Magic is damn near women exclusive in the Norse Mythology so I can see Sigyn being very strong or at least witty with her use of it (which is how she caught Loki's eyes) They also have a more platonic relationship, where they drew comfort in each other when lonely.

Being a sentient AI made by one of the smartest men in the world, JARVIS feels like he can handle anything that comes his way. Be it: two troll inclined scientists, an archer who likes to hide in the duct works of the Tower, an assassin who moves like her namesake, an out of his time war hero, a demigod with a habit of breaking things on accident or any combination of things that can potentially happen by being associated with the Avengers… however the sight before him, or rather in his camera’s, is making him rethink his ready for anything belief. There are no alarms to pull because she walked rather calmly through the unlocked Lobby doors. She has no weapon, a full body scan that every person has to receive upon entering makes sure of that. She doesn’t appear to be any of the worrying emotions that indicate a volatile and therefore dangerous visitor whilst she stands in front of the elevator that leads to the residential portion of the Tower. A key card is necessary to open the doors or an advance warning that company was coming over so that JARVIS can manually open them, he’s had no such warning about this visitor. The woman does not seem to be concerned about the looks that she is being given, the whispered conversations that are going on around her nor the fact that she has at least four people considering calling the cops.

The reasons behind the discontent in the lobby is the reason why JARVIS hasn’t actually done anything other than the basic scans. The woman is accompanied by the oddest assortment: a large black wolf, at least that is what his bio-scanners are reporting, that reaches just above the woman’s hip, a large snake like creature that his bio-scanners are having trouble identifying, a black six legged horse, three children of various ages and a babe that she rests on her hip. If his internet searches are correct then standing in Stark Towers lobby is the Lady Sigyn along with Loki’s children, who the babe is, as Loki only has six children according to myths, is unknown.

_“Sir,”_ JARVIS patches himself into the intercom of the Lab Mr. Stark is using at the moment.

“Yes JARVIS?”

_“We have a visitor. One that I believe is looking for Thor.”_

It’s the only conclusion that JARVIS can reach. Unfortunately Thor isn’t in the Tower.

“Blondie isn’t here… Who's knocking? His warrior friends? Foster warned me about them…”

_“Not them. A Lady Sigyn if I presume.”_

He hears Stark grumble under his breath for a moment.

“Isn’t that who the myths say married Reindeer Games?”

_“Yes sir.”_

“Why the hell is _she_ here?”

_“I am not sure, I haven’t asked.”_

“Sassy. If she’s not to wage revenge she can come up to wait for Lightning Rod on his level. Send a message to Thor to let him know she’s here.”

_“Of course sir.”_

Simultaneously sending a message whilst talking is child's play to the AI.

_“My Lady,”_ he speak softly; impressed when she doesn’t jump or look around to find his location _“Might I ask the reason behind your visitation?”_

“I merely wish to talk to Tho.. My Prince. The Lady Queen Frigga informed me that this is the hall which he now hangs his cape when not in Asgard.”

_“You wish to talk, that is it?”_

“That is what I said is it not?” she speaks with the air of a mother used to answering stupid questions but does not mind them.

_“Yes. I can grant you access to Thor’s level however he is not here at the moment.”_

A dark look crosses her face, which JARVIS catalogs, before it smooths out.

“I am willing to wait.”

_“Very well.”_

He opens the elevator doors and lets the family in, noting with interest that the animals shift into more humanoid forms to fit. Never a boring day at the Tower.


	4. Game Night

“Come one snake eyes!” Tony yells as he tosses the dice. He holds his breath as he watches them roll. Thor lets out a happy chuckle when instead of the hoped for snake eyes Tony gets ten which lands Tony on one of Thor’s properties. Bruce chuckles softly grabbing the dice, Tony had rolled a six and a four, and therefore it was Bruce’s turn. He rolls the dice carefully and laughs when he gets enough to land on Free Parking. He gathers up the money in the middle and adds it to his meager pile. It’s unsurprising that Natasha and Clint are winning and surprisingly Tony is losing.

“Why is Bruce using the Ironman piece?” Bucky speaks up from the doorway. He and Steve are standing together, flush from the snow that is coming down in droves outside.

“Because I like Big Green and Big Green likes his Tin Man.”

“And why is Thor using my piece?”

“Because Lightning Bolt’s girlfriend stole his from out game.”

“Lady Jane did not!”

“She so did dude.”

Steve blinks and shakes his head.

“Keep it down please. Some of us wake up at a decent hour.”

“Fiiine mooom.”


	5. A Look into a Possible Non-Sexual Ageplay Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this world, secondary genders and Littles are known. Nick Fury ponders on the mechanics of biology and how the fuck this is his life.

Littles have always been a bit of source of confusion for Nick Fury. He understands on a certain level that they have no control over what their body does any more than he has a chance of stopping a knot from popping up when he's aroused. He was of course around before science hammered in that yes Little and Caregiver is just as biological as a Male and Female, as Alpha and Omega. The fact that it, like sexuality. is a spectrum that ranges and fluctuates caused a very large stir. He remembers the shit storm that pushed all thoughts of Littles and Caregivers under the rug- the pious narrow-minded assholes of the world finally clues on to the fact that the secondary genders didn't separate the masses as cleanly as they'd like. An Alpha can still enjoy being fucked by an Omega. In fact, the only difference between the three secondary genders is that Alphas have knots. It was a rather large shock to the scientific community when an Alpha male became pregnant with his Beta lovers child.

 

Maria likes to remind him in her quiet but forceful way that the reason Littles and Caregivers confuse him and capture his attention is because he's base. And isn't that a very tricky term as there is a difference between base and Base. Being Base with a capital 'B' means that he falls not only strictly in the no inclination toward Little of Caregiver but he is a Beta as well. Which he fucking isn't thank you very fucking much, he's a hot-blooded Alpha no matter how much that causes him issues. Maria is a Beta Switch, she can be either or, or neither depending on the situation. She confessed to him one when she was duped up on high-grade medicine that she prefers being little, that she likes giving up the control she normally holds in an iron fist just for a little while. It makes him wish for the first time that he could handle being a Caregiver. That he could be the Uncle to Maria's Little cause he sure as hell isn't Daddy material.

 

And then on one horrible mission that will forever haunt Nick's nightmares forever, not that he will ever tell anyone or let anyone know, he loses not only Maria but Phil, a Base male who Nick didn't realize was an integral part of his life until then, go MI fucking A. The safe-house was breached, bad Intel, extraction teams A and B annihilated and they had missed three check-ins. He's not Director at this point, not even Assistant Director no Nick has no qualms giving the people telling him to pull out and give up the middle finger. You don't leave a man fucking behind even if you are a damn spy agency. You can't have loyalty if your underlings think you'll just leave them to die. He'll learn later that sometimes you have too, that you can't save them all no matter how big a gun you tote. He'll learn that backstabbing isn't just a trope in the movies and secrets are best kept when told to no one. He finds them of course, Phil is bloodied and broken looking while Maria looks blank. They rescued themselves because they aren't damsels in need of saving. Getting them to a secure safe house is hard. Dealing with Phil's withdrawal of the many, many chemicals that the man used to come off as Base is even harder. He's not Base, in fact, he's an Omega Caretaker.

 

It's a mission that cements in the fact that Phil and Maria will forever be his Right and Left hands. He gets a slap on the wrist when he shows up at the main base dragging the two of them along but they didn't lose any more agents and they learned that even as an Omega Phil could take a shit ton of damage. And really when Nick looks back on his life, when he's alone in his office thinking, he realizes that he should have seen what happened coming at him a mile away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, I've fallen in love with non-sexual ageplay and I wanna dip my toes into it. You can thank the series Love is for Children and Everyone Deserves to be Little for this. ((If you haven't read those you should.))


	6. The Trouble With Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony have wanted kids for a while. They've never actively tried to get one, not with what they do for a living. But then tragedy happens and suddenly they find themselves the guardians of two little boys; Harry and Peter. And on their first morning as parents they- Bruce- agrees to babysit three more children. They can handle this right?

Tony holds the little boy in his arms and rocks him gently. He and Bruce had been considering adopting a child but he never thought it would be like this. He never thought it would be with the death of two of his best friends, to gain a child. The Parker’s are gone except for little Peter. And if that isn’t enough even Norman Osborn is missing so his son is left all alone as well. Soft humming draws his eyes from the three-year-old in his arms to his lover who is rocking Harry.

 

Bruce looks up and they share soft looks. This isn’t how they imagined starting a family and they might not be able to keep Harry should Norman pop back into the light but… But this feels right. Jarvis keeps the lights down low as the rock their new children to sleep. They exit the room after the traumatized toddlers to bed and embrace. They stand there hugging, mourning the lives lost.

 

“Jay.”

 

_ “Yes, Sir?” _

 

“Let us know if they wake.”

 

_ “Of course Sir.” _

 

When they wake Bruce takes them down to the communal kitchen to make them breakfast. Tony stays up in the room to conference with Pepper and his lawyers to help with the adoption process. When he gets to the kitchen he stops, blinks, rubs his eyes and blinks again.

 

“Bruce!?”

 

“Yes, Tony?”

 

“Did the number of children in the tower multiply?”

 

He asks because there are five children at his breakfast bar instead of two. Bruce turns away from the stove where he is making what smells like those pancakes where he uses mashed bananas for flour. He smiles at the kids who look worried.

 

“Yes, Tony. Say hello to Matt, Pietro and Wanda. Clint asked if I could watch them.”

 

Tony stares at them a little longer, smiling at them reassuringly.

 

“Jarvis, why is this the first time I’m meeting them?” he asks as he sits down between the two boosters he had Jarvis overnight to the tower. Peter and Harry look at him and give small toothy smiles.

 

_ “Mister Barton just returned to the tower with them this morning. He and Miss Romanoff send their thank again Doctor Banner.” _

 

“It’s really no problem and just Bruce please Jarvis.”

 

_ “Of course, Bruce.” _

 

With that taken care of Bruce turns his attention back to the pancakes and Tony turns his attention back to the children. Matt is a cute kid, the oldest of the group. He is maybe ten-years-old and has red hair. Tony can’t see the color of his eyes and makes him think he’s blind. The other two newest ones could be about six.

 

“So who chose pancakes? And do I get some?”

 

“Pietro did. We helped mash nanas,” Peter whispers shyly and Tony melts.

 

“Pancakes are done. Tony, can you grab the syrup?”

 

Before Tony can move there is a rush of air and then the syrup is on the table.

 

“Woah,” Harry breathes. Tony and Bruce stare at the syrup and then look at the older three kids. Pietro looks smug while Wanda looks worried.

 

“We’re not supposed to do that,” Tony hears Wanda whisper. This may be a long day. Bruce shakes himself and places the large plate of pancakes down. He plates up some for Matt and puts the plate in front of the boy.

 

“Do you need me to cut it up for you?” he asks as he gently presses a fork into Matt’s hand.

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Okay. Do you want syrup?”

 

“Just a bit.”

 

Tony watches as Bruce pours a small amount on the pancakes.

 

“So are we not going to talk about the sudden appearance of condiments?” he asks as Bruce starts to plate up food for Pietro and Wanda. The two kids freeze and Bruce gives him a dirty look.

 

“Not at breakfast. We can talk superpowers after food. Now make yourself useful and make Harry and Peter a plate. Be sure to cut up the pieces.”

 

“Yes, mother.”

 

The kids giggle as he sticks his tongue out at Bruce who rolls his eyes fondly. Tony makes sure the pieces are nice and cut up and then he pours a good amount of sugar on each plate. He sees Pietro staring at him wide-eyed and raises an eyebrow. Bruce is gone, probably back in the kitchen getting his morning tea.

 

“What? Did Bruce not give you enough syrup?”

 

Pietro shakes his head and Tony sees the pitiful amount of syrup Bruce gave the kid. It briefly passes through his mind that if the kid is like the Flash and has super speed what he is about to do might be a bad idea but the kid looks so sad. So he stands so that he can pour without leaning over other kids.

 

“There you go kid.”

 

“Thank you!”

 

Turning back to Harry and Peter, Tony realizes that he may have made a mistake giving them as much syrup as he did. He walks over to them and as he stands there trying to figure out how to clean some off of the kids he feels something drip onto his shoulder. How the hell did they get a piece of pancake on the ceiling in that little of time??


	7. Bear

It all started, Bruce thinks his hands absentmindedly playing with the soft ears of the stuffed bear in his lap, when Steve brought home Bucky. The Winter Soldier hadn't been very soldiery even though the very name gave Bruce and Hulk the willies. Steve had looked so lost holding onto his friend, Sam one step behind him that it was a surprise to no one that Tony didn't argue against having one more person living in the tower.

 

Brainwashing is a subject that it danced around in the tower. No one likes it and it sends Clint into spirals of depression and self-loathing that even Thor knows isn't good. But Sam managed- still manages- to walk that minefield and find ways to help both Bucky and Clint. It was his idea to get Bucky a stuffed bear, a security item that will help him feel safe. Bruce has a feeling that Bucky ended up with two because of Tony, the fact that the bears are dressed up like Captain America and Falcon the biggest clue. And it worked, works, Bucky can be seen carrying them around on his bad days gently squeezing them to his chest, his flesh hand tugging on arms or ears.

 

After that more and more bears started making appearances in the tower. Sam and Steve were the first, their Bucky bears looking like the Bucky of before and not the Winter Soldier. Thor followed with a Loki bear- Clint hadn't been pleased with that at all- that the Asgardian treated like a baby instead of a toy. A Phil bear was soon added to the collection, often tear soaked and shared between Clint and Natasha though she would never admit to hugging it. Even Pepper started carrying around a Maria Hill bear when she joined them for the night.

 

Bruce looks down at the Iron Man bear in his lap and smiles softly. There is a sense of comfort in this. Hulk rumbles his agreement lowly, a picture/memory of them snuggling the Hulk-sized Iron Man bear in their panic room floating to the top. In fact, the only person in the tower who doesn't seem to have a bear is Tony. And neither he nor Hulk know how to take that.


	8. In Which Sigyn Is Going To Fix Shit Even If It Doesn't Seem Like It At First Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of In Which Sigyn Is Going To Fix Shit Even If It Doesn't Seem Like It At First.

JARVIS watches in wonder as Sigyn moves about Thor's space as if it is her own. The children have spread out, shifting forms like a human breathes. All except the babe she still holds in her arms. The wolf, Fenrir his internet searches tell him, has curled up on the couch with one of the human children, a young looking boy. Jormungander, a _dragon_ of all things, is investigating the kitchen with the other boy. The horse and female child, who has shifted into a form that is not a child but a nearly grown woman stand close to Sigyn. If bad feelings could be felt in his mainframe he would be feeling them.

"Don't worry children, your uncle should be here soon," she speaks with an authority that Ms. Potts would envy. The children, and not so child in the case of Hel, nod their heads.

 _"Sir,_ " he patches back into the lab.

"Yeah Jay?"

_"It may be prudent to be ready to come to Thor's aid."_

"Thought she wasn't here for revenge."

 _"Not the physical kind at least but there is something... off. I do not believe she intends to physically harm Thor but,"_ he trails off.

"I understand. Let me know when Pointbreak gets here and I will go up."

_"Understood."_

As Sigyn predicted the wait isn't a long one and Thor arrives before too long. If pressed JARVIS can answer that it took forty-five minutes and fifteen seconds to return to the town. A speedy arrival since Thor had been at least an hour and a half away.

"My Prince," Sigyn greets Thor while the children rush him with yells of 'uncle'. It is almost a sweet scene if not of the calm mask on the woman's face. It sparks something in JARVIS' memory bank. Dangerous and yet not.

"Sigyn, what are you doing here?"

"Can I not visit my brother-in-law?" She asks moving closer to Thor

Thor raises an eyebrow causing her to laugh.

"You're right, I do have a mission. A _very_ important one," she says. Outside in the small hall that keeps the elevator from opening directly into a residency, the elevator opens. Sigyn kisses the head of the babe in her arms.

"We both know that Loki's marriage to me is mostly in name only."

If JARVIS is reading Thor's face right, that isn't entirely true. Sir is almost to the door when gold mist begins to swirl around both the black haired goddess and Thor.

"Once upon a time, he looked up to you. Once upon a time, he was pure, trick-filled and mischevious but pure. Once upon a time, you loved him."

"I still love him," Thor argues as JARVIS locks Sir out of the room momentarily and starts to analyze the golden mist. Sigyn smiles softly.

"Youth has its joys."

And suddenly it is not a fully grown Thor standing there, held by a gaggle of children but a Thor the size of the younger human children. Sigyn is gone as well the baby floating in a gold bubble. Reluctantly JARVIS lets Sir into the room. The younger children scatter, Fenrir and Jormungander standing in front of the bubble while Hel stands in front of Thor. Sir takes in the sight of the children and cringes.

"Fucking magic."


	9. Wasteland Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing for Fallout Fusions and I have no shame! PrePhilnt Fallout goodness. 
> 
> Or
> 
> Clint is a person who has lived in the Wasteland his entire life. It's not glamourus and he has more blood on his hands than he likes to think about but he tries to do good. Which is why he can't just walk away when he watches slavers add a man to their collection. Little does he know that saving the man, Phil, will get him a job offer.

Clint looks over at the man he had saved. He’s older than Clint is, maybe even older than Barney but still decent looking. Really it’s no surprise that the slavers snatched the naive man up like he was a stash of bottle caps. What irritates Clint the most is that this man isn’t a Vault Dweller, even if he does, in fact, have a Pip-Boy on his arm, oh no! This Phil Coulson is a wastelander just like Clint. The package of prewar food crinkles in his hand. Phil looks so calm and collected as he cleans the little beam pistol he scavenged from one of the dead slavers. Clint looks away, looks down at the little red and yellow package of noodles. The instructions read to boil water before adding the noodles but Clint likes to just add the powder to them dry and crunch them up. Less chance of added radiation poisoning. A throat clears and he looks up at Phil.

 

“While you’re going to get me in so much trouble I wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to help me. Help the others.”

 

The ones who had fled the moment their chains fell from their wrists. Clint shrugs, ignoring the sting of the bullet hole that still hadn’t closed. Phil gives him a small smile stepping closer to him. Life in the corpse of America ingrains certain quirks into all its survivors. Suspicion is one and Clint has it strong so he tenses and makes sure the shitty little pistol, the best ranged weapon the slavers had, is within grabbing distance.

 

“How would you feel about a job offer? We could use more people like you.”

 

That drags a snort out Clint. If Phil’s companions are just like him, fumbling and easy to capture Clint isn’t sure he wants to help. But he takes a look into Phil’s face, a big mistake, and holy shit how can anyone who lives in this hellhole of a place look so fucking sincere? Those blue eyes drill into his and Clint has to force himself to look down at his noodles.

 

“You don’t have to accept it. But I would like to repay you. Maybe get that hole patched up some more since they didn’t have any health potions? You just have to come back to my base?”

 

“I personally think you’re fucking crazy but I could use some healing.”

 

And more arrows for his bow, but Phil didn’t need to know that.

 

It takes a week to get to this base of Phil’s. The whole in his arm, barely patched by the shitty tech bandages that he found before saving Phil, feels hot to the touch and he thinks it’s infected. That has to be the reason that his gaze keeps dropping to the older man’s ass. Over the week that he’s been traveling with Phil, Clint has noted that the man is a better fighter than he first made himself out to be.

 

In that first fight he missed shots, he fumbled about like a newborn Brahmin and was just a general lost cause. But in the two fights, one with Raiders and one with a few feral ghouls, Phil had let competence shine through. The man made sure to do something monumentally stupid after those moments of beauty. It frustrates Clint. In a world where incompetence can literally be the end of life, yours or someone else's, hiding usefulness is foreign to him.

 

The base that Phil often spoke of in short longing sentences that he cut off far more than he finished looks like a cobbled together village of those strange tiny houses the prewar magazines praised. There is a flimsy wire fence all around it but Clint isn’t stupid. He feels the thrum of a hidden generator and can see the Gatling guns.

 

“Home sweet home,” Phil says with a sigh. It’s not a happy one but it isn’t sad either. Mysteries upon mysteries surround this simple looking man.

 

A ghoul dressed in black greet them. He has an eyepatch and a voice that carries despite just as raspy as any other ghoul Clint has had the fortune of meeting.

 

“What are you doing back so early and who the fuck is this?”

 

“Sorry, sir. Unforeseen complication. Clint here saw me get captured-”

 

“And played the mother fucking hero. What did he do to sway you into bringing him back here instead of shooting him in the goddamn head? It’s going to take months to figure out the new routes the rest of the slavers are going to take.”

 

Clint straightens up, his eyes picking out each gun that can turn into a hostile and maps a way out of here. Trust and a pretty face is going to get him in trouble.

 

“He didn’t have to help me, help the other slaves and yet he did. And he didn’t ask for payment afterward. Didn’t demand that I repay him in more carnal ways either,” Phil says. A growl escapes Clint’s throat at the thought of anyone demanding sexual favors in return for doing what had once been considered decent human behavior. Phil glances at him from the corner of his eyes.

 

“A perfect marksman without V.A.T.S and a lot more sir.”

 

The ghoul looks him up and down.

 

“You vouch for him, Coulson?”

 

Phil nods his head.

 

“I do.”

 

Slowly the ghoul reaches out a hand, a smile spreading on his face.

 

“Well then, I’m Nick Fury.”

 

Clint listens to Fury talk as a skittish man with curly hair patches up his shoulder. The world has gone to shit, the government has failed no matter what the Enclave and Rangers said. Fury’s pitch would have worked better in a prewar world. Would have fit a spy agency more than what equates to a gang with noble intentions. He even tells Fury so.

 

“Son, before the bomb fell I was a spy. Shit like that rarely works on them. They tend to get jaded rather quick. Too much red in their ledger, too many lies told. And the superheroes we had were treated like bombs about to go off. I want to better.”

 

Clint looks at Phil and looks around the clinic he’s in.

 

“So I get my own tiny house?”


	10. Stoki

The cell that they are keeping Loki in isn’t really a cell. It’s an empty room in Stark’s tower and the only thing keeping Loki from escaping and causing more chaos is Thor’s magical hammer. Steve takes in their captive. He doesn’t look like an egomaniac. But then his main source of knowledge on egomaniacal behavior and what people wanting to take over the world looks like is Johann Shmidt. Loki looks thin, too thin, pale even with almost healed bruises littering his skin. He looks like a prisoner of war who has been rescued and healing for few days.

 

“Why did you do it?” he asks. Part of him feels bad when Loki flinches at the sound of his voice. Loki looks him over and Steve knows that he is being judged. The sneer tells him that he has been judged unworthy.

 

“To rule Midgard.”

 

It’s a lie. Steve knows it in his bones. But he also knows that if he pushes Loki will spit poison dipped in fancy words that Steve doubts he’ll be able to understand. They sit in silence. The silence seems to grate on Loki more than Thor’s loudness.

 

“Are you here to mock me? To rub your victory in my face? Did you not get enough of that when you left me like a dog whilst you ate your feast?” Loki demands shifting as much as Mjolnir allows him to.

 

“I just want to understand. Thor makes it sound like you wanted for nothing. You were a Prince.”

 

Loki laughs a cold laugh. If it had warmth, Steve would find it attractive.

 

“Oh yes, I wanted for nothing. I, the son that couldn’t swing a sword, wanted for nothing. I, the son who practiced magic and illusion instead of proper manly fighting, wanted for nothing. And that was before-” Loki rants before he cuts himself off. Steve tilts his head.

 

“Before what?”

 

Again Loki looks at him as if searching for the truth, judging his sincerity. There is a ripple and suddenly he is not looking at a pale skinned man with green eyes but instead looking at a man with blue skin and red eyes. It’s shocking and he can feel the change in temperature of the air. He’s exotic and beautiful.

 

“I am something my own ‘brother’ thinks is a monster. I was raised by people who hated my kind. So yes Flagman, I wanted for nothing.”

 

There is another ripple and a sullen Loki is left behind.

 

“Who could stomach such a hideous beast that not even its own parents wanted?”

 

“You’re not hideous.”

 

Loki looks as shocked as Steve feels at his words. He hadn’t meant to say them. Complimenting a man’s appearance as he had was a good way to get beat up back in the day. Silence settles on them again, Loki looking at him as if he’s a puzzle to solve.

 

“You meant your words.”

 

Loki doesn’t seem to want to believe what he has said to be true. Steve wonders if anyone has ever complimented Loki.

 

“You are strange.”

 

Steve laughs and gives Loki a smile.

 

“Probably,” he agrees.

 

They settle back into silence. It’s comfortable instead of tense. Right before Steve leaves Loki speaks up again.

 

“You remind me of my- of Frigga. She would sit in silence with me.”

 

Later he will learn that Frigga was the one person Loki still loved.

 

He hands the letter he wrote on a whim to Thor. The demigod takes it with a confused look.

 

“For Loki.”

 

Feeling connected to the outside world may help him. Make him feel like there is more than just trying to fit into a family that he feels disconnected from. To have someone who will listen.

 

Loki doesn’t write back but Steve keeps sending them. It’s a compulsion, of sorts. But Loki had looked more like a lost and lonely child reaching out for a hand to help him. It takes four letters before Loki writes back. Short and concise, written in fancy script that reminds Steve of the historical documents that are on display. They speak of a gilded cage and lonely nights. They speak of a woman who Loki wishes he could still call mother.

 

Steve wonders if it’s possible to fall in love with someone through letters. Because the way that Loki speaks in his letters is elegance and kind. Intelligence that finds fascinating flows with sass and snark that could rival Bucky. He can’t get enough of it.

 

Thor comes to him three months later looking like a thief. He steps aside and there stands Loki. Steve can’t tell if he looks better or worse.

 

“Just for tonight,” Thor says. A constipated look on his face that is both happy and yet concerned. It’s an interesting look on the demigod. Steve quirks an eyebrow at Loki.

 

“Out for good behavior. Says that if I keep behaving I may be able to leave my cell for a whole week at a time.”

 

The sass makes him smile. It’s a relaxing time, they spend it talking about the going on’s in both their lives. Steve loves it. When they run out of things to talk about Steve offers to put one of the movies Tony is adamant he watch on. They are both out of their element and enjoy having each other comment on the movies. Morning comes all too soon, Steve wakes to Loki’s head resting on his shoulder. Black hair moves slightly with every breath the man takes and Steve can’t look away. When it comes time for Loki to leave Steve presses a kiss to Loki’s cheek on impulse. The black haired demigod gives him a cool look before kissing Steve’s lips. It’s chaste and sweet and Steve can already feel his cheeks heating up. It’s nothing like the curious practice kisses he had with Bucky, nothing like the desperate lusting kiss that Peggy walked in on. It’s perfect and imperfect. 

 

“Until next time flagman,” Loki says walking to the door. Thor is waiting there, that constipated look on his face.

 

“Until next time.”

 

And then Loki is gone. Until his next visist, Steve reminds himself.


	11. Little Daemons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Mel aren't a normal pair. What with him being able to turn into a giant rage monster and her giving no shits about daemon social decorum but they make it work. With Ross on their tail, they doubt that they will ever have a home. Enter one Tony Stark and Phoebe and their tower. Add in some simmering feelings and you have a recipe for disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a His Dark Material fusion! Yay for fusions! It's something that I may pull out and work on later. I hope you enjoy. It's a pre-Science Boyfriends.

Bruce takes a deep breath standing uncertainly in the living room of the floor that Tony has given him in the tower. It’s bigger than most houses that he has lived in. The billionaire is standing there beside him, a wide smile on his face. Bruce doesn't know what to say or how to react. Staying in New York isn't high on his to-do list. In fact, he's planning on running as soon as he can. Mel is shivering inside the hoodie that he holds her in. While they’ve been apart before, but Mel doesn’t like being away from him and transformations are harder on her than they are on him. Bad things happen when they are apart.

 

"Thank him, dummy," she whispers to him. She's always been the one to help him in social situations. Able to read people and the scents in the air better than he ever hoped to. She’s able to understand things even when scared. He shifts slightly.

 

"Thank you, Tony," he says, "though it's a bit much."

 

Mel nips him hard through the hoodie. Tony just smiles and his daemon, Phoebe, sits on Tony's shoulder. The Barn Owl has a delighted look on her face as she coos. Only Tony Stark's daemon could look that happy about having a giant rage monster and his daemon living in the very home they helped smash.

 

"You're just not used to extravagance yet Big Guy. Give it a few days and you'll be loving this. You and..." Tony trails off, clearly waiting for Bruce to introduce his daemon. Out of all the others, Tony is the only one who was able to get a look at her before she found a place to hide.

 

"I'm Melpomene but call me Mel," Mel raises her voice to be heard through the fabric of the hoodie. Tony grins ignoring the breach of social protocol. Daemons aren't supposed to speak to others. If-

 

"He isn't here and hasn't been for years," Mel whispers harshly, "You are too hard on yourself and on the other guy."

 

If there was one thing he did not agree with his daemon on it is her opinion on the Hulk. He doesn't speak but he doesn't need to not with Tony in the room. The engineer walks around the floor pointing out all the amenities that have been provided.

 

"If there is anything, and I do mean anything that your heart desires just tell Jarvis. And he'll get it for you. Isn't that right Jarvis?"

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

Bruce jumps at the voice and looks around.

 

"I apologize I did not mean to startle you."

 

"It's fine."

 

"Is not. Nearly gave me a heart attack. Need to give him a bell or something," Mel snarks. There is the sound of bells and then Jarvis is speaking again.

 

"Does that work? I endeavor to be of the most assistance."

 

Bruce feels Mel rumble and smiles. Mel can appreciate snark.

 

"That does, thank you."

 

They don't ignore her, they don't treat her as if she's broken for speaking to someone other than Bruce. It's strange and wonderful.

 

"So stay," she whispers later when she's curled up on a pillow next to his head. He sighs softly. 

 

"I can't. We can't. You know that. We aren't safe."

 

She looks at him, her narrow muzzle seeming to frown at him while her eyes seem to project sadness.

 

"Bruce-"

 

"Ross won't stop hunting us. Not even with protection. We'll just get them hurt," he whispers one hand reaching out to pet her soft fur. She's barely longer than a housecat but she often feels so much larger, and as Oncilla go she’s actually on the small side. Her purr helps him fall asleep. God does he want to believe that he's safe here. That he can call this tower with its Candyland of labs home. But he knows that they can never have homes again. 

 

That night he dreams of a house with rose bushes and a smiling woman, grey just starting to enter her long brown hair. He dreams of a small dog that lets Bruce pick him up and snuggle him. He dreams of coming home to the glistening tower and friends who smile.

 

When he wakes he knows that those dreams can never be. He lets Tony drag him back down to the Candyland. There is more than one level of labs and it sets his scientist heart a flutter.

 

“I have a few floors that could do with some direction. They’re yours if you want them. No strings attached.”

 

Bruce looks at Tony. The man is focused on his Ironman blueprints trying to make improvements to them. The light of the labs doesn’t land on him in flattering ways and yet Tony still makes him wish they’d met in different ways. The hair, the confidence, the smile, the intelligence it draws him in like a satellite that’s gotten too close to a black hole.  Tony is larger than life and if Bruce isn’t careful he’ll be sucked in. Mel digs her claws into his chest grounding him.

 

“Tony-”

 

“Hey, I know you’re probably going to split once you rest up but I want you to know you have a place here. You always will.”

 

They don’t talk after that. They don’t need to. Bruce goes to bed that night planning on leaving in the morning. He wakes up, packs his bags and heads down to the communal kitchen. Tony is asleep at the island, face laying on a circuit board. He doesn’t leave that day. Nor the next day, nor the next day.

 

He’s trapped, he realizes sitting at his dining room table a cup of tea in his hands and his bags packed by the door. Not like in the gravitational pull of a black hole but instead in the swirling, whirling vortex of a whirlpool. Mel walks with a smug air every night they go to bed on their overly large and flush memory foam mattress.

 

“It’s safe,” she tells him before starting to purr. It’s not fair that she does that. It always sends him to sleep.


	12. Deaf!Clint Sister!Laura

He stares down at the devices in his hand. About the size of Shield issued earwigs they are the one thing that keeps him from being lost in a world of muted sound. They keep him from feeling like he is moving in a mud pit, sluggish and slow. Deep inside him, there is a strong urge to crush them, to close his hand around them and squeeze until either the plastic broke or the skin on the palm of his hand did. What’s the use of hearing when the one person he wants to hear is gone?  _ You’re being overdramatic, _ a voice whispers in his mind. He doesn’t want to put a name to the voice or acknowledge that it’s right. Doesn’t want to acknowledge that there are people he wants to hear talking as they sign. That there are still people that he loves, that he still has weaknesses.

 

He’s never been good at dealing with his emotions. Not because he’s a man, like some people think, but because of his life before Shield. Before Phil. When showing and trying to deal with emotions was more trouble than it was worth. He takes a deep breath and puts his hearing aids back into his ears. Full sound comes back to him. The gentle hum of the tower, the ambient noise of his tv, and the ringing of his phone. It’s not the full blown ring of a call, instead, it’s the rapid fire repetition signalling incoming texts. He catches his phone before it vibrates off of the coffee table.

 

There are people that Clint expects to be texting him. People who want him to come out of his room, who want to remind him that he’s not alone. That they understand loss. It’s not them, though, and part of him wishes that it was so he could ignore the texts without feeling guilty. Instead, it’s his sister. Oh god. His hand shakes and the voice talks again.  _ You forgot to tell her, didn’t you? _ the voice whispers gently. It would hurt less if he- it- sounded disappointed or angry instead of the calm understanding. But like the person, it sounds like it refuses to sink to those emotions. Clint hasn’t told his sister that- he can’t bring himself to finish the thought.  _ She’ll understand, Clint. _ Will she? Clint scrolls through the texts.

 

> To Clint:  _ The kids want to know when their uncles are going to visit. _
> 
> To Clint:  _ Look at them pretending to be like you two! _
> 
> To Clint:  _ They aren’t happy that I went on a date. _
> 
> To Clint:  _ Can’t believe that you made me rely on the news to know you survived. Don’t think I don’t recognize your work. _

 

He rereads the first text and starts to cry. He’s been pretending. It’s so easy to pretend that Phil will walk in the door. That his lover will raise an eyebrow and speak to him in that voice of his. It’s easy to pretend that the bed will dip and he will feel lips brush against his brow. Or it was until that text. The pictures that are interspersed between the texts start to blur as he hunches over. How is he supposed to tell them? What can he tell them? The phone buzzes again.

 

> To Clint: _Clint?_ _You’re scaring me. I know you aren’t one for calling and texting, that’s Phil. And I know you tend to go off for months at a time but I’m worried._
> 
> To Clint: _ Just one word please? _

 

_ Tell her the truth. Pretend you’re talking to my parents, _ the voice instructs. Clint cringes.  _ You left it to Shield to tell them? _ The voice is flat. He understands why, it’s been two months since Phil- He’s been hearing a dea- His phone vibrates again, this time with a picture of a spider. Natasha is here, Jarvis must have told her he wasn’t doing well. Small, deadly hands pluck his phone away from him. Vaguely he understands what Natasha is doing but everything is catching up to him. The mind control, the fighting, losing Phil. It’s all hitting him at once. But… but Natasha is here. She’ll protect him while he is weak.

 

Time moves and a cup of something warm is pressed into his hands. He sniffs it, trusting Natasha to make sure nothing unsavory is in the drink. Carefully he sips it, not coffee, what a shame.

 

“Drink the tea and maybe you can have some coffee.”

 

The flatness of her voice tells him he’s in trouble, she picked that up from Phil. Clint wonders if she told Laura, or if he still has to. In silence, he sips the tea. In silence, Natasha sits down beside him and pulls him to her. The cup trembles in his hands. Little waves are created in the cup and he watches them like they have the answers he needs. After a while he rests his head on Natasha’s shoulder, eyes still on the little waves, tears still streaming down his face.

 

“I keep expecting him to walk in and smile at me, some dumb pun flowing from his hands. I keep expecting to hear him get onto me for the risks I take,” he tells her once the tears have stopped. For a moment he suspects she’s drugged him. It wouldn’t be the first time, but that was so long ago before they trusted each other completely.

 

“Me too.”

 

He curls into her more, and she lets him.

 

“I couldn’t tell his parents.”

 

“Nick or Maria will have done so.”

 

But it should have been me, he thinks and the little voice in his mind stays silent.

 

“I can’t tell Laura.”

 

She gives him a look, one that only Phil and him ever been able to draw out of her. Something with emotion that isn’t a poor attempt.

 

“She figured it out when you didn’t answer back.”

 

A hand cards through his hair, calming and grounding him but not the one he wants to feel. She kisses the top of his head, like a mother would a child. He may never be the same, may never hear his Phil’s voice again but Natasha will make sure he survives. Even if he doesn’t want to.


	13. Time Travel Fun?

Sam closes the door to his bedroom, and slides down it. His chest is heaving and his head is pounding. Whoever thought it was a good idea to throw a raging party in his body needs to be lynched. One hand reaches up to grab at his chest while the other holds the back of his head. He isn’t going to break down. He isn’t. He hasn’t broken down since that time he woke to his momma’s tear-streaked face in the hospital. Alcohol poisoning is not a fun way to die. He swore then that he wouldn’t touch another bottle of beer again.

 

And yet now he feels like draining an entire case. Because the dead are back to haunt him. There is a dead man in his kitchen, drinking coffee, and reading his newspaper. There is a dead man who kissed him on his lips like he hasn’t been dead for years. Like there hasn’t been a large Riley shaped hole in his heart ever since he had to watch his lover go down. With a shaky breath stands and heads over to his bed. His cellphone rests on the end table where he left it not thinking he’d need it so early in the morning. Clearly, he was wrong. Without thinking he reaches out and grabs his cell, fingers dialing a number.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey man, hate to bug you but do you think you can swing by my place real quick?” he asks. His voice is shaking and if Steve says no there is a very good chance that he’s going to crawl into his closet and cry himself to sleep.

 

“Yeah, sure. Need something?”

 

“You could say that… I think I might be hallucinating. There is someone in my kitchen that shouldn’t be.”

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Sam can hear Steve moving around through the phone. Can hear people asking what’s wrong and can only imagine the look on the captain’s face.

 

“Riley… I… Steve, please…”

 

“Jesus, yeah I’ll be right there. Where are you?”

 

He lets out a manic laugh.

 

“Hiding in my bedroom like a baby.”

 

“There is nothing wrong with that.”

 

Natasha’s voice is distorted but he can hear her making demanding sounds. The fact that the nation’s hero and a super spy have basically adopted him into the friend group normally fills him with glee but at this moment all he can think about are bright eyes and soft lips.

 

“We’ll be right there.”

 

The 'we' escapes his notice and he hangs up the phone when the dial tone starts. He looks toward the door, part of him wanting Riley to open it up and question him about why he’s hiding. The other part knows that if that happens he’ll break like a dropped plate. There is no way that Riley is still alive. He watched him  _ die _ . Watched as Riley was shot out of the sky. So Riley can’t be alive and there were no crazy Nazi’s after him with super soldier juice like there was with Steve and Bucky. Why is he seeing things? Has he angered some higher power by befriending Steve and Natasha?

 

He slides down onto the floor and covers his face.

 

“Sam? Are you in there?”

 

The illusion sounds like Riley.

 

“Are you okay? Come on man, give me something?”

 

Tears start streaming down his face. He wants this to be real. He doubts that he will be able to handle it if it isn’t. The doorknob rattles and his door starts to open.

 

“Riley-” he cuts himself off.

 

“What do you need?”

 

“Just stay in the kitchen please.”

 

Sam doesn’t want to think that he’s begging but he’s close to it. If it keeps at least a part of him whole, he’ll beg and plead and bargain.

 

“Okay… You’ll explain all this later, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Riley says ‘okay’ again and Sam watches his door close. Sam stays huddled on the floor until he hears a car pull up to his house. The tires squeal like the person was driving too fast and parked just as quickly. Two doors open and close, slamming, the sound distorted by his swirling and churning sounds. He covers his head and before he knows it there are soft hands touching him.

 

Natasha is there, her hands on his. There is a look on her face that his troubled mind tries to decipher but gives up halfway.

 

“You with me?” she asks slowly, calmly. Like she wouldn’t blame him if he wasn’t. Her thumbs are moving back and forth, petting him, it’s a nice feeling.

 

“Barely,” he tells her truthfully. She smiles at him, the ones where the corners of her mouth twitches like she has a secret to tell but won’t.

 

“So there is, in fact, a person in your kitchen. I figured you would rather have Steve sit with him than me,” Natasha tells him as she helps him up from the floor. His joints crack like he’s several years older than he is.

 

“I don’t know, you might be less likely to act irrationally.”

 

There is another flash of a look that he barely catches.

 

“We’ll see if he’s your Riley, and if he isn’t the person who put him up to this will be made to pay.”

 

It’s a dark promise but it’s one he’ll take. Together they make their way into his kitchen. There is a star-struck look on Riley’s face as he looks at Captain America. Steve gives him a smile before looking back at Riley with a frown. He looks just like he did this morning. Short brown hair ruffled and needing a combing, bright brown eyes that show life, dressed messily, his pale skin glowing with health and soft lips that just beg to be kissed. 

 

“Sam are you okay?”

 

Steve and Riley ask it at the same time and Sam smiles weakly.

 

“Depends on the definition of okay.”

 

Riley takes a step toward him, only to rebuffed by Natasha.

 

“What’s going on man?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing. You’re dead.”

 

A stricken look crosses Riley’s face and Sam wants to take his words back. Wants to reach across the space between them and grab Riley’s hands.

 

“No, I’m not. Clearly, I’m not. Why would you say that? I know our fight was bad but not bad enough for you to be telling people I’m dead.”

 

Sam’s heart constricts tightly. Natasha squeezes his hand gently and Steve moves to stand in front of him. The last bad fight they had Riley left in a huff and didn’t come back for a week.

 

“Riley, what’s the last thing you remember?”

 

The look he gets is pure Riley.

 

“Do you mean after we had the fight? I went to a bar to get drunk. I went to the park to sleep it off and some asswipe nearly hit me so I changed my mind and slept on the couch.”

 

“What year do you think it is?” Steve asks.

 

“Does this have to do with the joke newspaper Sam got?”

 

The world starts to spin as Sam forgets how to breathe.


	14. Meeting Foggy

Out of all the Avengers with all their problems, Sam is the sanest. Or at least stablest. Bruce is pretty sane compared to the others he's just not very stable. And while Bruce may not be that kind of doctor Sam is, and even though it's advised against doctors treating their friends he's not that kind of doctor. And oh boy is that headache inducing. Not as headache inducing as trying to get said friends, that he ethically shouldn't be trying to counsel, to open up to him. So when he wakes up and hears someone grumbling he forms a sort of kinship with them. Because he knows that sort of grumbling. It's the why does no one ever listen to be grumbling. It's the 'I feel like talking to a brick wall will have more effect than talking to you' grumble. It's a grumble that he makes a lot.

 

He tries to move and that's when his pain receptors decide to wake up. It's when he realizes that before he blacked out he was in a fight. A low groan, which is not a whine, escapes his throat before he can stop it. The low grumbling doesn't stop so Sam hopes that the person grumbling isn't a bad guy who captured him. Oh lord above, does he hope that he hasn't been captured along with injured. Because that means that the Avengers will mother him. Natasha will do her creepy watch him while he's sleeping bit that then goes to her forcing him into the gym to practice hand-to-hand combat despite the fact that he was a soldier before he was an Avenger. Tony will ply him with food and drinks and constant stories, which wouldn't be that bad if the man could control his tone of voice when he was scared. Jarvis would constantly scan him, which isn't bad but any little dings had Tony dragging Bruce to him. Thor would look at him like a kicked puppy and try to whisper. Bruce and Clint would thankfully be the most level-headed about everything. Though Clint did the creepy watch you while you sleep thing too and came with two attachments in the form of the twins. Sam's not complaining. Out of all of them, even Clint, he's the most human, the most breakable out of the group and they get touchy when he gets hurt.

 

The pain drops down to almost manageable levels and he can finally hear what his host is saying.

 

"... It's not a superpower Foggy. Oh no, that's just you being a good person, Foggy."

 

It's a nice voice, one of those voices that you don't mind listening to when you've drank three cups of Asgardian ale even though you know you shouldn't. It's the kind that really helps when you have a vet that is one step away from letting themselves fall off the roof of a building. Sam likes the voice and hopes that this 'Foggy' isn't a bad guy.

 

"Look at me!"

 

Kinda wish I could, Sam thinks. The banging in his head caution him not to open his eyes and unlike the others of his merry band of heroes, he listens to it.

 

"Do I look like I could carry hot, unconscious dead weight anywhere but to the ground? No! I'm not the one who does fancy flippity flips off of buildings for a living," the man continues to ramble. The voice is getting closer and then there is a hand on his forehead.

 

"No concussion, thank god. Broken ankle, a few broken ribs. Has one hell of a headache. Yeah, totally not a superpower," the man grumbles before muttering off even more injuries.

 

"Why couldn't it be more useful? Like telling me how to fix this shit? Instead of 'hey you feel that? That's the pain this person is feeling, here is what it is called.' Like seriously. The only thing I can fix is the cuts."

 

"Better than what most can do."

 

There is the sound of someone flailing, things crashing to the floor and cussing.

 

"Jesus Christ! At least have the decency to open your eyes if you're going to scare ten years off of my life," the man snaps. Sam feels his mouth twitch.

 

"What if I don't want to? I quite like the view of the back of my eyelids."

 

"Then it's your loss. I'm hotter than Thor."

 

Sam chuckles at that. Hell, it almost tempts him to open his eyes but he’s still in pain. So he does what most people do when they are in so much pain that even at manageable levels it makes you want to sob your heart out; he passes back out.

 

He wakes up in the middle of an argument.

 

“... you can’t just drag people in off the street!” that is a very angry woman who is using a voice his Nan often did right before she banished his Pawpaw to the couch.

 

“From where I’m standing you don’t have much room to talk Miss Hottie McBurnerphone. It’s easy to tell the dude is a good guy,” Foggy responds in a voice that reminds Sam of Bruce. Calm on the outside, angry on the inside.

 

“What if he wasn’t? What if he was a bad guy?”

 

“Then I wouldn’t have called you, and would hope that he’d sneak out while my back was turned. I can’t help  _ who _ I help. I just have-”

 

“Don’t! You don’t  _ have _ to help anyone. You want to and so you do. God, you are made for each other.”

 

Someone lets out a sigh, Sam is putting his money on Foggy and not McBurnerphone.

 

“Look when he wakes up I’ll help him call his friends and he’ll be out of our hair. Thank you for helping me.”

 

“You won’t bring any more unknown masked men into your apartment?”

 

Foggy doesn’t say anything.

 

“Foggy? I need you to promise me. I already have to deal with one idiot, I would like to have it stay that way.”

 

“I promise not to bring any more  _ masked _ individuals into my home.”

 

Sam spots the loophole that Foggy has given himself and the woman probably does too but she doesn’t push him. Instead, she leaves Foggy alone with Sam.

 

“You can stop faking, she’s gone.”

 

Slowly Sam opens one eye and then the other. The apartment is too bright, thank god, and is actually kinda cozy looking. The walls are the cheap off-white that most apartments are if they aren’t that ugly cream yellow but most of the wall is covered in pictures of family. The ceiling is is that popcorn texture that Sam loves to hate. His host isn’t anything special, compared to those that Sam has gone up against or lives with. Long blonde-brown hair that does rival Thor’s, it’s flat where Thor’s is wavy, short and kinda plump this Foggy is a person that doesn’t scream dangerous. In fact, he screams safe and keep me safe.

 

“How did you know I was faking?” he croaks out. Foggy snorts muttering something too low for Sam to really hear. He watches as Foggy goes and gets him a glass of water.

 

“It was a lucky guess. Glad to know it panned out.”

 

They sit in silence, Sam just sipping his drink and Foggy watching him.

 

“Are they alwa-”

 

“Do you want to-”

 

They speak at the same time. Foggy flushes and motions for Sam to go first.

 

“Are they always like McBurnerphone? Your friends, I mean,” Sam asks him. Foggy shrugs his shoulders, a lost look on his face.

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Please tell me you have a support system outside of them.”

 

That earns Sam a laugh. Which, while nice isn’t what he was aiming for.

 

“I’m not sure why you care Mister Falcon but your concern is appreciated. I don’t know if you can fit a cell phone in that suit of yours but if not you can use mine to call the Avengers.”

 

“I’m a superhero, we care. And I do in fact need to borrow a phone.”

 

The look of wonder when Steve shows up in costume to take Sam home is one that the man has seen many times. Right before they leave Foggy clears his throat nervously.

 

“As awesome as it was to have an Avenger in my home, and to meet Captain America… Let’s try to avoid meeting with me dragging you out of a garbage can? I’ve got a first aid kit and a door… or a window whichever is easier.”

 

“You shouldn’t leave your window unlocked,” Steve chides gently. Foggy and Sam roll their eyes together.

 

“Not very many people crawl up the fire escape to my floor Captain. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

 

They wave goodbye and Sam tries to memorize the apartment number so that he can send a thank you basket to the man.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what ya think?


End file.
